sajad

“هزار سال پیش
شبی که ابر اخترانِ دور دست
می‌گذشت از فراز بام من
صدام کرد

چه آشناست این صدا
همان که از زمان گاهواره می‌شنیدمش
همان که از درون من صِدام می‌کند

هزار سال میان جنگل ستاره‌ها پیِ تو گشته‌ام
ستاره‌ای نگفت
کزین سرای بی‌کسی
کسی صدات می‌کند؟

هنوز دیر نیست
هنوز صبر من
به قامت بلند آرزوست

عزیز همزبان من
تو در کدام کهکشان نشسته‌ای؟!...”
― هوشنگ ابتهاج

“What is a poet? An unhappy man who hides deep anguish in his heart, but whose lips are so formed that when the sigh and cry pass through them, it sounds like lovely music.... And people flock around the poet and say: 'Sing again soon' - that is, 'May new sufferings torment your soul but your lips be fashioned as before, for the cry would only frighten us, but the music, that is blissful.”
― Soren Kierkegaard, Either - Or

“Perhaps man has a hundred senses, and when he dies only the five senses that we know perish with him, and the other ninety-five remain alive.”
― Anton Chekhov, The Cherry Orchard

“Life is what happens to us while we are making other plans.”
― Allen Saunders